


Taharan

by Theavengershavetakenovermylife



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Ass Reader, Dragons, Elf/Human Relationship(s), F/M, Male elf x human reader, Romance, Smut, There's a dark lord, Unplanned Pregnancy, War, Wizards, i love elves, maybe? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 09:28:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17423294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theavengershavetakenovermylife/pseuds/Theavengershavetakenovermylife
Summary: A simple farmer's girl, many leagues from home and willing to do anything for some coin, finds herself in the dark elves territory of Taharan. Soon, she finds herself in this "Dragon Born" business and goes through a myriad of adventures with her Dark Elf Arzod. Love, adventure, humor, and good ol' smut. Please read the author's notes!





	1. The beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so some basic concepts about Taharan.  
> The typical -- elves are immortal, humans are not. The not typical - I am over male-dominated fantasy! Why do men only get elven goodness? No thanks! In this fantasy world, human women are not weak! They are just badass as elven ones, they just wear more clothes. The social construct is a lot like that of Skyrim - anyone can be an adventurer or traveler or warrior. There's no race war, though there is prejudice. There are two elves - High elves (think lord of the rings) and Dark elves. Dark elves aren't necessarily evil, they are just different. I posted a picture of what I believe a dark elf would most look like! Next, I was heavily inspired by the Eragon series with the whole dragon rider/ dragon born thing. Basically, it works the same, if a mortal becomes dragon rider they become immortal. I think that's all that needs to be mentioned. This is just a bit of fun so if anyone has any ideas I would love it!

If there was one thing you hated more than fairies, it was dark elves.

Okay, that was a little racist. Maybe, just maybe, not all were bad, but in this world, grudges were not the worst thing. You stiffened, shivering, trying to discreetly rub the ropes off your hands but you knew it was futile.

You furrowed your brow when you recalled what had gotten you into this mess. Now was the time, you supposed, you’d pay for your greed. If you could call it that – were you the one who was greedy when you were living coin to coin, inn to inn, doing the dirty work of some weak lord? It didn’t matter, because you were the one in ropes now.

It was a fool’s errand. You had gotten too confident in your thieving ability, in your resourcefulness and independence. Now, you were uncomfortably basically tied to a horse – yes, the elves tied you as you had not stopped struggling – and your mouth was gagged because once you discovered their large, delicate ears so unlike that of the high elves were sensitive to screaming, you did not stop.

The Lord was a weak one. You had been traveling south, wishing to stay in the warmer regions of Taharan. While the Night Valley often did not get warm, it was on your way, and when he offered 50 gold to get what he described as a family heirloom – you scoffed when you thought of the rock – he literally got you enslaved for a rock – you took it. 50 gold for such a simple task was hard to come by. Now, the elves around you seemed to be mocking. You knew what they were. Dark elves were so very different from their counterparts of the Western Isles and the Eastern forests. In some ways, you surmised, they were more human, but physically that was not the case. They were not what one would call noble, or wise, and they raided and stole and plundered. They were fierce and reclusive and preferred the dark canopy of the forest, but most famously of all, they were notorious slavers. That, you supposed, was to be your fate now.

While the dark elves had no need for slaves, as they couldn’t really use them in the forest and their traveling lifestyles, not because they had a moral issue with it, they made great coin in selling them to humans and the high elves. They sold all races to humans, and everything but elves to elves, for that was just not acceptable to their kind. Hypocrites, but whatever.

It was hard to see, but when they had attacked your camp, you were able to see most of their features in the twilight. They had very long ears, unlike the high elves who had small pointed tips. Their skin was dark, dark blue, dark purple, or black, sometimes spotted with silver freckles, and their eyes were an amber yellow. All of them had very dark hair, either black or dark silver, but the one riding next to you had a nearly blinding white shade that shone of the moonlight.

You should have waited till light. You knew that dark elves were not nocturnal, contrary to popular belief, but they were more lethargic during the day. Instead, you had wanted to be on your merry way as soon as possible and basically skipped into the forest as the sun began to set. You chided yourself – too many months of not losing what you called a battle made your head too big for your shoulders. Note, if you ever got out of this – doubt everything you do.

You guessed they were going to take you to the elves as a slave. Humans preferred other races, especially elves, for their slaves, and you supposed they got off on some sort of power play. Elves had a varying range of emotions for humans – some were indifferent, some hated them, some lusted after them. You shivered – hundreds of years ago, human women were often subjugated to sex slavery, and while that was not as common now, through centuries of women slowly elevating their roles in Taharan, and now with an unmarried but successful Queen of the humans in the North, people respected them more. Though you wondered if anyone could be considered equal when there was still slavery.

The dark elves were talented. You dared not allow yourself get into too much of a deep sleep, but even if you had been awake and ready with your sword drawn, they still would’ve beaten you. You couldn’t see and could barely hear them; one second you were standing, the next you were tied up and thrashing against the freakishly strong build of the elves. It wasn’t fair, you thought. They got to live forever, were on average at least a foot taller than you, AND were extremely strong? No. That just wasn’t fair.

Your train of thought was interrupted when the white haired elf next to you spoke. You noticed that most of this raiding party were men – only about 3 women, who frankly scared the shit out of you more than the men – what was it with elven women and literally not wearing anything to battle?

His voice was a deep, whispery timber, and your eyes squinted to notice his ears could MOVE. Cute, if you didn’t want to chop his head off right now.

“What is your name?”

Oh, so now you’re being nice? You had some options. Try and gain his and their trust by being compliant, though that would be hard given your recent tantrums, or stay silent and soothe your pride. As much as you did so love your pride, you told him your name, quietly, so he’d think you cared about his ears.

“That is lovely. Where are you from? That name sounds of the North somewhere.” He spoke again, this time looking at you. You supposed he was handsome, with his long white hair flowing loose except for a few braids along the side, with his big ears that had a few silver piercings in them and silvery tattoos that peaked above his leather armor. He was tall – taller than most in his party, though equally as lithe – and though is voice was gentle, you did not want to get in a fight with him because you would surely die.

“Nowhere.” You answered. He quirked his brow, and for a second you thought you angered him, and that you would be the rare occurrence where dark elves kept their captured ones and used them till they died, but he almost smiled. You could see the pearly white, albeit sharp, teeth underneath.

“You are from somewhere. What kind of fool dares venture in our forest this late? Wherever you are from, they most breed brave fools.” He looked over you, his amber eyes glinting liquid gold, and you nearly felt self-conscious at your disheveled appearance. “I wonder how much coin they paid you to try and rob the elves.”

You seethed. So he was cocky, too?

Though you knew it was unlikely, you held your tongue to the second question. If you got out of here, you wanted to take at least one thing from them, just as a souvenir.

“I am from a small village in Siannolon. The valley of the Horse Lords. Just a farmer’s girl.”

“What is a farmer’s girl doing so far from home, wearing armor and playing warrior?” He chided.

Your hands were currently tied, and he held the rope, and if you pulled just hard enough, maybe he would fall.

“Family died of sickness. I’ve traveled ever since.” You responded curtly. That was true. Your family had died when you were the meager age of 16, but the lord of your village did not care to recompense you, and instead seized all their belongings due to the overwhelming debt. He was going to marry you off to a lowly merchant, when you became 18, but the eve of your wedding you ran away.

And now you were here, enslaved again.

“You survived all on your own? A shame, to capture you, but you will make a fine slave.”

You heard chuckles all around you. What was this man doing? Maybe he was some sort of mage, and questioned all his captured ones to see if they could fetch higher value. You wanted to tell him he would make a fine head-spike, but you held your tongue.

Another elf rode up to you- no offense, almost all elves looked the same to you, and you could barely differentiate them – and twirled a lock of your hair that fell out of the braid. Your noise scrunched in disgust at his shark toothed smile, and he seemed to relish in it.

“I might just keep this one for myself, Arzod.”

You knew he was probably bluffing, and simply wanted to see you in fear. If he was actually considering it, he would not have gone through the trouble of forcing his clearly untrained elven tongue over the syllables of the common man and simply spoken to what you now called Arzod in elven.

“She is too weak. You’d break her within the fortnight.” One of the female elves chided. Beautiful. But skanky. Seriously, do they just not get cold? Also, good to note that she is a jealous one – it may help you later.

“I don’t think so. Survived this far, hasn’t she?”

Arzod interrupted. “No one will be keeping a human pet. We are late as it is, and we must get this useless rock and this human to the port by the second night.”

Your eyes widened a little. You had to force yourself from smiling. How convenient, that you had gotten captured just where you needed to. You did not want to give yourself away from the ever perceptive elf holding your rope.

Everyone seemed to grow bored of you, and slowly you started to droop over your horse. Sometime through the night, you dozed off, and awakened, startled, when you realized you’d fallen off your horse and had a painful rock dug into your back. You were yanked back upright by Arzod holding your rope.

He swung off his horse, tugging your arm almost painfully up, and up close you could now see how much tinier you were to him. Contradictory to his very harsh arm tugging, he carried you bridle style up onto his own horse and before you could snark at him swung up behind you. You did not like his crotch pressing into your behind and his arms caging you to hold the reins, and you could tell that he liked that you didn’t like it, and you KNEW that when he clicked his horse to go farther he dug his pelvis into yours a little to exaggeratedly.

“Humans often sleep while the moon is awake, do they not?” His breath was so close to your ear, and you shivered. He was surprisingly warm. But you were not going to be sexually attracted to your captor. No.

But maybe you could fool him.

“Yes,” you nodded in a breathy voice, leaning against him. “I have been traveling for many days, and it has seemed to catch up to me.”

“How old are you?” He asked, suddenly. You knew elves were immortal, so maybe he was trying to study the rare chance he could get with a human right in front of him.

“20.” You stated. Truth to be told, you actually didn’t know exactly how old you were, you just guessed. You knew your parents had died after your 16th birthday and after that, haven’t been keeping track. It was a solid estimate.

He seemed shocked, and then relaxed. “Humans live such short lives. I suppose sparks that burn so brightly are not meant to last, though.” He seemed to be talking more to himself than you now, and you wondered if all elves thought of humans as flies or embers that burned too quickly into chaos.

You didn’t say anything after that, and instead pretended to sleep against his chest. After some time of dozing off, your hands finally started to slowly inch towards their destination.

Your fingers lazily clasped around the small hunting knife on his belt. Years of pickpocketing did indeed come in handy for situations such as these. Now, the tricky part. Keeping it.

You suddenly lurched forward, pretending to cough, and while he seemed distracted to keep you on your horse you quickly brought your bound hands around the knife and hid it in your shirt. Your armor was thick, leather, and double layered, and the thin knife slid easily between the two layers as to not hurt you and to be concealed.

“Sorry.” You said, sheepishly. “Got something in my throat.”

Arzod said nothing, and instead continued forward with the rest of his party on the forest path.

You didn’t know how long you were riding. When you stopped first, it was while the sun came up, and the elves did not sleep. You had to though. God, if you got out of this, your sleep schedule was going to be fucked.

Arzod continued to talk to you, and you gave him curt, short answers. You knew that he would keep a watchful eye on you, and though you knew dark elves did not really have leaders or follow kings or chiefs, you knew that for some reason he was the most respected and feared of his little party. You did not want to find out why.


	2. Why don't elven women in fantasy just wear more clothes

So one day, while he was going through his bags on the opposite side of the camp, you spoke to one of the elven women.

“Hey, could you help me go to the bathroom?” She looked at you in disgust. “Womanly issues. Don’t want to attract predators.” You finished.

Her eyes raised and you noticed the tattoos printed on her eyelids. “Mortal women. Nothing but breeding machines. Is it true you go through your cycles every month?” She knelt down to quickly yank you up. You noticed that the rest of the camp was listening.

“Yes. But we do not live forever, and thus it makes sense, does it not?”

She looked at you. “How long do your pregnancies last?” So curious, you thought.

“Nine months.”

Her eyes widened. So elves must be very different indeed. “Monthly breeding cycles, yet nine months to carry a weak mortal into the world.” She grinned. She had a gold tooth. “Human women breastfeed?”

Okay, now this was getting weird. What was it about human reproduction that was so funny? “Um, yes. You don’t?”

She again looked at you in disgust. You couldn’t wait to stab her. “No, that is barbaric and disgusting.”

“What do you do with them then? Don’t you guys care about your kids?”

She scoffed. “You mortals are so very weak.” She was now down with the conversation, and pulled you off towards the woods.

She pushed you forwards when you were out of sight of the camp, and you turned. “Can you please close your eyes? You made me feel a little self-conscious.”

While she did not appreciate closing her eyes, her ears did twitch upwards when you said the last part. It was a lie, you did not care what this bitch thought, but she did close her eyes.

You shuffled around in your clothing, and brought out the knife. To her, it sounded simply like you were getting situated to clean yourself, but you lurched forward with the knife you your hands and stabbed her in the neck, where she foolishly, like many other female elves, left her bosom mostly exposed.

She was going to scream but you dropped the knife and held your bound hands against her mouth, shoving her to a tree. Since they were bound, you could not slit her throat quietly as one would usually do, and you watched as her life left her eyes.

You had killed before, but you could not hide your grimace. You had killed when you needed to, as was the way of this harsh world, but every time you did you hated it. You were a farmer’s girl, not a warrior, and you felt the tear in your heart, the twist in your gut whenever you stole a life. You remembered the faces of everyone you killed, even if they would’ve done the same to you, and even now you hesitate to make sure she stops breathing.

Her eyes go still, and her pulse stops, and you wait 5 more seconds. She is heavy, so when you drag her limp body, it nearly knocks the breath out of you. You find a log and dump her body behind it, quickly covering it with leaves, and take her sword, bow, and arrow.

Know equipped, you look around you. You don’t know where to go. While you really want to stick around, follow them, and get that rock, you know it is unlikely and you value your life more. So you walk back the way you came, trying to get as far away from her body as possible before they discover something is amiss, and sneakily make your way through the trees. You had tried to memorize landmarks but this forest was dense and thick with magic, and you know that it is likely you will die.

Arzod is tossing the smooth, dark blue stone back and forth between his hands. Such a simple stone, for some reason, was going to fetch a lot of money. His raiding party was not close, and held no loyalty to each other, but he had scrounged them up and the profits were to be split evenly. He snorted, remembering the tale of the witch he stole it from. She proclaimed it was the dragon egg, and that only a dragon born would awaken the magic within it and, as she put it, “Save us all from the dark lord’s treachery.”

The dark lord had died thousands of years ago. He was an elf, with an army of elves that had rallied to his cause, which wished to enslave all free peoples and shroud the land in darkness. It was said he had a dragon himself, and the dragon born, a high elf of the eastern woodlands named Gignith, along with the united races of Taharan, defeated him.

To Arzod, it was nothing but a myth, a legend, and a story that sometimes kept Taharan from falling into an all-out race war. That, and the economic benefit of working together. The dark elves like him mostly kept to themselves. Besides, exiting the forests would pose great prejudice and danger to one like him. The hypocrisy, he thought, that he was considered a cruel and malicious slaver when he was simply meeting the demands of the ones who bought them.

Speaking of slaves, he looked to where the human woman was previously tied up a few minutes ago. He was no expert on “women’s troubles,” but it seemed to be taking a while. No matter. Mortal women’s reproductive systems were known to be the most complicated, and he didn’t want her to be harmed or infertile when he sold her to the elven lord of the Sky Valley.

He always felt a slight guilt when capturing women. He knew they suffered more than their male counterparts, usually, when in slavery. This woman was born to be no slave, as was apparent of her survival, and he knew her very pretty face and strong, yet feminine body would be highly desired. Perhaps, before he sold her, he would make sure to scout for his kinder customers. He was shocked to feel a slight pang of jealousy, remembering her warm body against his for the ride to the checkpoint, and quickly pushed it down. Feelings for members of another race, including intermarrying, while not illegal or punishable, were highly looked down upon in certain combinations. Male humans and female high elves were the most common, while vice versa was very uncommon as female humans often felt that it resulted in too great of an inequality. He supposed the feeling was justified. After all, they had been enslaved by elves thousands of years ago for lewd purposes. Orc men and human women were often common as well, as they had the same lifespans and orcs, while brutal, had a certain sense of chivalry when it came to their women.

The rock was smooth in his hand. It had not a single scar on it. Arzod wondered if he could fetch an even higher price if he could prove it was nearly indestructible. He reached for his thin hunting knife, usually for skinning animals, and his ears perked when he realized it wasn’t there. He checked again, then around his belt, then surveyed the area around him. He had used it to cut the gag off (Y/N) when he wished to speak with her.

His elven senses perked up. The woman.

He quickly barked out an order in elvish, and he knew his fellow raiders would quickly comply as this was the only profit they would have for a while. Gathering his weapons, they tracked where the female elf, he forgot her name, took her. His nostrils flared – blood.

The human girl was not very good at covering her tracks, but anyone smart would not take long and would make a beeline to get away from them. Arzod quickly located the elf, and she was long dead. He sighed. This woman was stubborn, but he could already smell her from a mile away. While they kept her fed and gave her water, she was still tired, clearly not used to riding for so long. He angled his sword towards her trail and the raiding group quickly followed. They did not take any time to bless the female elf to Sutubis, their heaven, as they held no friendship with her. This pact was merely all in the name of self-interest.

Meanwhile, you felt as though you were running around in circles. You had not realized quite literally how cold it got without a tall, dark handsome elf keeping you warm – ew, did you just think that? – And again chided yourself for not asking for a blanket before you left. They would’ve believed you were cold, and hey, they didn’t want the merchandise to get frostbite.

Finally, after what felt like hours of running, you had to stop. The air felt weirdly dark and thick, and your heart felt weighed down. If you were not so enraptured of getting away you would have noticed the trees had a sickly feel to them, and the air felt old and ancient.

You stopped, kneeling next to a tree, and put your hand on the bark. It made a disgustingly sticky nose, and you felt your heart stop. Something was wrong.

Peeling your hand off the bark, it had a sickly, yellow green color, and then you heard voices. They were not the grunted whispers of the dark elves that had captured you. No, they were darker, deeper, and more sinister.

It was a female dark elf, a witch, clad in dark robes. As you leaned closer, you saw her eyes – they were fully black. The elf was allowing her wrist to bleed upon a temple – a grave? – And you realized where you were. This was the battle place, according to legend, where the 4 druids of the dark lord perished at the magic of the dragon born thousands of years ago. It was said that their magic was so dark, even his magic could not cleanse the ground in which they lay, and the dark forest was then born.

The ground beneath you shook, and even if you were not a superstitious girl, you knew that you had to get out of here. Now. You did not want to be involved in this. But, of course, with your luck, the witch seemed to sense your petrified presence and her eyes looked into you. When she spoke, it sounded dark, like a man’s voice, or actually multiple men’s voices.

“The Dark Lord blesses us today. You will be our first enslaved.”


	3. The Dark Lord

Your eyes widened, and you quickly backed up. Whatever this witch was doing, she was too powerful for you, and the most magic you ever learned was summoning food and water, and lighting a fire. Just lighting a fire. You could not blast fireballs out of your hands and even if you could, you had a feeling she would deflect them easily.

She smiled, her dark lips pulled back maliciously and her nostrils flared. “There are more.”

As if on cue, the raiding party broke through the bushes and Arzod looked terrifyingly beautiful. You had two options now. One, slavery. Two, probably worse slavery. You quickly chose to throw your lot in with the first and ran back to them. He grabbed your arm, squeezing way too tight, and bared his teeth.

“What have you done?”

“I didn’t do anything. I think you should be focusing on the crazy witch trying to raise the dead from their graves.” At this, his eyes snapped, and widened in fear. He whispered something in his native tongue and quickly, unceremoniously threw you behind him.

The witch laughed. Vines grew up around the raiding party and they knew there was no escape, so the first, the one who touched your hair, lunged forward. She pulled out a sword of her own and easily tossed him aside. It was apparent that they would all need to work together on this, and soon there was a cacophony of swords, slashes, and guttural noises of pain.

In the midst of battle, the ground continued to shape, and the stones around her seemed to literally glow. You had sat there, stupidly helpless as all you had was a hunting knife, and crawled behind a nice boulder. Arzod was ruthless, his lithe body was extremely strong and fast and he managed to slash the witch three times across the back. She wailed in pain, but her blood only seemed to add to the dark magic that filled the air.

The rock, suddenly, rolled out of his bag, and you got tunnel vision.

The lord had only described it to you briefly, but it was, for some reason, unlike anything you’d ever seen. It seemed to be drawing you in, capturing you, begging for you to hide it and keep it safe – keep it far away from this witch.

The clashing stopped. In the back of your mind, you understood only Arzod and the witch, though barely, were alive. She hissed at the stone.

“ _Dragon.”_

Your body went into overdrive. You did not know why you felt the need to keep this rock away from her at all costs, but you lurched forward, barely managing to grab the huge, round stone in your hands and hold it towards your chest. In this distraction, she stepped forward, and though Arzod attempted to stop her, she quickly managed to stab him deep within his gut. He doubled forward in pain. She stalked towards you.

You had had your gloves on the whole time. In the back of your mind, a voice tugged, telling you that you must touch it. You must feel the stone beneath your fingers. When the witch realized what you were doing, she lunged forward, but it was too late. The minute your hand touched the stone, you felt a burning sensation course through your body and a flash of bright white light encompassed the forest. The witch seethed, and slowly, slowly turned to ash.

Though the threat of her was gone, the magic that had just occurred from your touch seemed to be the last thing the dead beneath your feet needed. The ground underneath the stones opened up, and you hid beneath the boulder, your back against it, as you felt a sickly feeling in the air. Damned be the snakes that may have nested in this little alcove.

Footsteps. Arzod’s strangled breath. It seems they thought him a lost cause, for you didn’t hear any fighting between them and assumed they must have left him for dead. They spoke, the words chilling you to your bone, and somehow, you understood this dark, ancient elvish.

_We can feel you._

You weren’t religious, but you closed your eyes, praying to every god you’ve ever heard of to _keep you alive._

_We can taste your power._

_Dragon Born._

_Come to us – the dark lord will keep you. He will help you rule._

There were multiple voices, and you could not differentiate between each. Somehow, you knew, this egg’s magic was protecting you. They would not touch you.

A screech was heard off in the distance and the air shifted. A thundering of feet passed by, and you assumed that some dark force was calling them to their master. You were petrified, frozen in fear even after they were gone.

Arzod’s wheezing breath broke you out of your stupor. You stood, clutching the egg to your chest, and quickly rushed over to the satchels his dead companions left behind. You needed to leave. You gathered healing potions, coins, rations, water skins, weapons – maybe you could find their camp again and get the horses –

His cough broke your attention again.

You should leave him. He was going to sell you, enslave you. But you felt tied to him. You knew, in your heart, leaving him to die was wrong. It was so easy but you could not.

You knelt beside him, looking through your satchel to find some potions to numb his pain and quicken the healing. He had slash marks all over his body but the witches last stabbing was the true killer. You tore his shirt, looking at the wound underneath his dark purple skin, and seethed. You hoped it wasn’t a poison blade.

“What –“he coughed, grabbing your hand, ‘”What are you doing?”

“Saving you.” You curtly replied. “Be still, drink these.” You held his warm head in your hands, slowly dropping each of the contents of the vials upon his lips. He licked them, sputtering, and you patted his chest. He now looked at you with those fierce amber eyes.

“Why are you doing this?” He sighed, hitching in pain when you used some of the water in the water skin to clean out the dirt from the wound. “You must run.”

“I took one life today.”

He looked at you in confusion. A human, helping her dark elf enslaver. This was not commonplace.

“You tried to run away.” He spoke as if duh, of course she needed to kill her. You shrugged, using your teeth to open the salve bottle and apply it generously to the wound. It stung. You would need to find some king’s weed to apply to it later to make sure it healed properly.

“I did.” Now, the stitches. “This is going to hurt.” He laughed. You could not help and think, even in his near death, that he was very handsome.

“Not as much as that fucking bitch.” He eyed the pile of ash, and the integrity of the situation seemed to dawn on him. “You.” He flinched – first stitch. “You are the dragon born.”

Your movements paused. While you were caring for him, you kept the egg beside you the whole time. You did not realize how possessive you were. “Such things are myths.”

“It is not a myth when you see it with your own eyes.” He states. “You must stay alive. If the Dark Lord is truly –“he coughed, by the gods this hurt, “truly coming back, you must defeat him.”

“I am no hero.” You stated. The idea of it scared you. You were a petty thief, a rogue, and adventurer, living from filthy city to city, inn to inn. You were no hero that would unite the races and ride her dragon to victory. Your heart throbbed at the idea. You were no elf.

“You are whether you want to be or not.” He took your hand once you were done with the stitches, pulling you back. He whispered your name, pulling his other hand to push a curl behind your ear. “Let me see the face of the dragon born.”

You looked at him, eyebrows raised, like he was a child. He smiled at you. “If I survive this, I pledge myself to you, (Y/N), to keep you alive and safe. I lay my life before the dragon born.”

You snorted. Elves, even dark elves, were always so dramatic. He looked offended at your childish response. “Thanks.”

“You must try to help me stand. You got supplies? We must get horses.” His words were starting to slur. You knew that you must leave this wretched place in case they come back.

It took great difficulty, but after a while, you had your packs situated on your person, knowing you would collect more supplies and hopefully be able to carry more with horses if you got back. You knew he needed rest but he needed to direct you back. After being semi comfortable, with him leaning against you, you made your way back. The elf’s ears were drooped, his white brilliant hair bloody and matted, and you knew even dark elves were vain and he would be unhappy with his appearance. The way back was long with a ridiculously heavy elf leaning against you, and you thanked the gods that they healed extremely fast.

When you finally got back, you were pleased to see the horses were still there. He wanted to keep going, but his eyes were now starting to droop like his ears, and you shushed him.

“We can rest for a few hours. Let me get things ready.”

You chose the two strongest horses to keep, although you knew he would not be able to ride by himself tomorrow. You would just keep the other one along until he could. You packed the rider less horse with as much as you could – extra clothes, money, weapons, blankets, a tent, food, water, and the riding horse with your weapons and some extra healing supplies. You hoped you didn’t forget anything essential.

You looked over to where he lay. He was truly so very beautiful. Though all elves were, he seemed extremely so, and you found yourself walking over to him to pick the leaves out of his hair and brush through the knots.

You sighed, leaning back. You held the egg in your hands. Though you hoped this dragon business wasn’t true, you knew. You knew you held something that was now an irreplaceable part of you, of the world, in your hands. It throbbed with life, thrumming through your soul and its magic coursed through your veins.

Your eyes eventually drooped low. Usually, you would not feel safe sleeping in this forest – your captors were not the only elves here, and they were not opposed to fighting each other for slaves – you knew the thing you held in your hands would keep you safe. You slowly leaned against Arzod, breathing in his extremely earthy, masculine scent, and lulled yourself to sleep.


	4. The inn

The next morning, Arzod was awake and very fussy. You made sure he ate and drank, and he wanted to be on the road out of here immediately.

His wound was already closing up, but he was weak and you didn’t want him to strain himself lest he tear the stitches. He disdainfully held onto you as you rode through the woods.

“I don’t even know where we’re going to go.” You said, guiding the horse through the stream.

“We must travel to the south.” He told you. “The strongest human settlement lies there. They are very interracial, with elves, orcs, goblins alike, and they will help the dragon born. Lacrerona will help you, and the King Gidhora will allow you to stay and when your dragon hatches, will keep you safe.” He was speaking to himself now. He gripped your waist – you knew his thoughts. You had never even been that far south before, past the desert and into the mountains of the great egalitarian stronghold, though one day told yourself you would. It was a long road. Many different people. People who hated dark elves, hated humans, hated both. This dark lord business was dangerous and for some people it didn’t matter. You were also not the best fighter, though you could hold your own, and you were grateful for the man who tried to enslave you who leaned behind you.

“I believe, though, before we go there we should travel a bit due east. There is a college of magic in Ukosos. I have a friend there, an ancient mage who was passionate in his studies of the war of the dark lord. He knew very much of the dragon born and could help in this quest.” He told you. You stiffened. Right now, you were going with the flow. But you knew yourself. You were no hero. You ran away when things got tough and had no benefit for you. You didn’t know if you were up for this.

“I am a farm girl from the land of horse lords,” you began. You felt his breath against your neck as he tried to see your face more. You stared ahead. “I do not think I am the dragon born.”

He huffed. “Of course you are. You just don’t want to be.” He looked at you, seeing your worry, and immediately softened. “We only met a few days ago, under … negative circumstances. But in the short time I have known you I have seen you are very strong and smart and not just some farm girl. I have also pledged myself to you, and an elf’s word is permanent. You can’t get rid of me now.” He joked. You now looked at him, and your pulse quickened at how close he was. Just a little further, and you could lean in, touch his lips with yours…

You snapped out of it and smiled up at him. “I suppose.”

“Maybe we can start over.” He offered. You said nothing, so he continued. “I am Arzod Vezis, of the northern dark forest. My family were traders, but were slaughtered in a raiding party of an opposite clan, and they took me in. I was a slave for 5 years before my master freed me, and I have been my own ever since.”

Your eyes dropped at his words. You knew all dark elves had harsh lives. While very vicious and mighty, it was not entirely their fault. The minute they stepped out of their forest, the world did not really accept them, and they could barely make their way through the world without being spat at or offered a job other than mercenary or mage.

“I am sorry about that.” You offered. You felt him shrug behind you, and he leaned against your shoulder, putting his chin on it. You told him your name again, your story.

“There must be more.” He joked. So you told him of the lord, and how you ran away when you were 18. His eyes widened at this. “Oh, and I have always wanted to learn some more magic. So I guess this is a good thing. I have been traveling on my own for years, so it’s nice to have a companion.”

He looked at you. “I promise that you will not be lonely ever again, (Y/N).” Gods, why does he do this? Make your heart beat faster and your core ache. You have slept with a few men before, but very few, and none of them made you feel like … this.

“In elven culture, there is marriage, but it is rare. Marriage is a sacred thing, and we mate for life. Children are even rarer.” He explained. “No one forces marriage, unless maybe you’re the prince.” Arzod flicked his eyes upward, and you did as well, though you saw nothing. “We are two days from the border, and from there, a day and a half from the nearest village. I have not gone in, only stopped at its gates for meeting customers, but I have heard there’s a decent inn. We can stop there for a few days to rest, but I fear soon the Dark Lords druids will wreak havoc upon the land and people will begin looking for you.”

“Wonderful.” You retorted.

“I will not let them have you.” He whispered. It made chills, not unpleasant ones run down your spine. There was a double slide to his words, and you, oddly enough, did not feel worried about it.

“When we get to the human settlement,” You started, breaking him from his silence, “Wear your hood over your face, to cover your ears and skin, and gloves. Not many races in Taharan have your coloring. While running into a bigot is inevitable, we should avoid it as much as possible. Humans can be real jerks, but we should try and stay in human and neutral settlements. Men are smart enough to not face an elf.”

He nodded in agreement. And so, your long journey began.

“We only have one room left for the night.”

Arzod sat in the corner, munching on his food you had ordered for him. It was nice to have a warm meal and his wound had mostly healed. You sighed. You didn’t want him to know that sharing a room with him would set you on edge. It was a tiring few days to the inn, and he said that you would have to be extra careful as his previous customers, the ones he was going to sell you to, might recognize him – so avoid all elves if possible.

“That is fine.” You smiled, giving him the coins, and the innkeeper smiled back. He was a kind looking man, and his wife and daughters ran the kitchens and waited tables. “Thanks.”

“My lady,” he said before you turned around, and you looked at him, “I notice the companion you keep. If you need... help, do not hesitate to ask me. These are free lands.” He emphasized free. Ah, so he thought you were in danger. Well, it’s not a crazy assumption to make.

“I am in no danger, I promise.” He didn’t seem to believe you, but nodded. You scuttled back to the table where Arzod sat, sipping his drink.

“He thinks you are in danger.” He spoke. Ah, elven hearing. “Maybe you are. That color suits you beautifully.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and you knew, underneath his hood, that his ears perked up. You were now in a simple blue blouse that had a low, plunging neckline and trousers. It was warm in the inn.

“Yes, I told him otherwise.” You said before biting into your fresh, warm bread. Delicious.

He just hummed, and slowly slipped his drink. “What do you think of human cuisine?” You chided.

“Honestly, better than ours. Although high elves do beat you.” He smiled. “Though I see something far more delicious in front of me.”

You blushed, furiously, and bit into your bread again. Over the course of the last few days, it has become apparent that Arzod is the biggest flirt you have ever met. You didn’t know if he was being serious or not, but either way, it never failed to make your heart quicken its pace. He was extremely suggestive, and did not care about stripping before you to “get comfortable,” as he called it. He seemed to enjoy your very human expressions towards his flirtations and had not ceased.

“Shut up.” He chuckled, stretching slowly. You knew a few patrons of the bar looked at the two of you suspiciously, but also knew they could not see his true race.

“Where are our rooms?” He asked.

“Number 8.” You said, looking at the key.

He smiled brightly, his amber eyes glinted in the low firelight of the tavern. “Only one?” He did not even try to hide his appeasement. You shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant.

“There was only one left.” He didn’t care. Maybe he expected you to make him sleep outside. You wouldn’t because … well. Sleeping next to him for the past few days wasn’t bad, what difference did a bed make? If only you knew …

“I am gonna ask him for two baths.” You stated, brushing the crumbs off your tunic.

“We can just share. Save money.” His voice almost sounded begging.

You pretended not to hear him and continued to your destination.

He leaned back against the wall, drinking in your form as you waltzed away. Though he knew you didn’t mean it, he thought you were a tease.

Elves knew who they were to be mated with. Though dark elves would often fraternize with whoever they found attractive, there was an elven sense of who was to be their one. Arzod, looking back, knew he was enraptured by the little human the minute he had her in ropes. He would not mind having her tied up at his will again.

He also knew humans were oblivious. They did not mate for life, though could love deeply and stay with one person their whole life. He knew that the braids he put in your hair meant nothing to you, but he knew that if you happened upon any orcs, elves or dwarves that they would know you were his. The thought itself stirred awakening in his loins.

He sighed. He would have to be careful. He knew he intimidated you, and you were much tinier than him. He didn’t know much about human courting, so he unabashedly flirted with you, as he knew they did, from dawn to dusk.

How lucky, he thought to himself, to have his pretty, soft, yet fiercely strong dragon born human to have as a mate. He couldn’t wait. Arzod knew, however, that even if you agreed you had a long treacherous road ahead of you with the inevitable war and the dragon business. Perhaps that is why he was so eager to seduce you, make you love him, want him, before you got to the south. He wanted to claim you before this war ended, should he, or you, or both perish. He would much rather die than have you meet your death, and his heart lurched at the thought of you dying. Dragon born or not, humans were fragile things, though he supposed if they were as strong as elves, their fierceness and unrelenting passion would bring the end.

You looked back at him. He watched as your form sauntered up the stairs, and though he wanted to follow, wanted to see your bare, naked skin that was to be for his eyes and hands and mouth only, he would not frighten you. So he waited, picking at the wood on the table instead.


	5. The bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> smut

It felt so nice to be clean. You had used the oils given to you to wash out all filth, and by the time you were done, your skin was radiant, glowing in the moonlight, and your tresses were silky and smooth and smelled of roses. And… you shaved your legs and underarms, and trimmed the curls covering your flower, and though you could have worn regular pajamas, instead borrowed the silk robe that the innkeeper laid out for you, stating you could have it as the last patron had left it behind. She assured you she cleaned it and that it would look lovely on you, winked, and exited.

You bit your lip nervously as you heard his light, confident footsteps walk up the stairs. Sure, he was your only companion. Things could get complicated. Sleeping with him, in every sense, could complicate things, even if you told yourself there was nothing beyond physical attraction, which was a lie. You knew that when you felt him inside you, which made your core throb at the thought, that he would be much more to you than a traveling companion.

You realized that you couldn’t find it in you to care. You assumed he thought you left the room after the innkeepers wife brought up a new bath, but instead you languidly rolled onto your stomach on the soft sheets, letting the robe dip down your shoulders, leaving a nice view of cleavage, and crossed your ankles upwards to make your back look more arched and the robe slide just barely above your tantalizing ass.

The door opened, his hood was drawn back, and you heard his breath catch in his throat. You, in the meanwhile, pretended to find a book that was on the shelf very interesting. You pretended not to hear him come in, and after seconds of silence, looked up at him.

“Are you going to bathe?”

He seemed to be physically hurt, and in truth, he was. He wanted nothing more than to spread your legs and drive into you from behind, to fuck you so hard, so deep, that you forgot everything but his name. That you forgot this dragon business, came to live with him in a neutral city, waited for him every day to come home until your belly was full with his children –

He stopped himself. This was dangerous. You were dangerous. You had the audacity to bite your lip, and he growled, wanting to do it for you.

“ _Vixen.”_ He panted. But he would not be aggressive with you, or possessive. Your first time, anyways. There was time for that later. Time for that in the woods and fields and inns between you and Ukosos. He hardened so visibly in his pants that you had to hold back a grunt.

Instead, he straightened, quickly shedding himself of his clothes till he was down to his loincloth. You wondered if the carpet matched the drapes. His white hair shown so beautifully in the moonlight, his broad shoulders were tensed heavily. His muscles were large and thick, and you knew he could kill you with a snap of his hands easily. But he wouldn’t. You saw his very sizeable erection twitch in his loincloth, and wishes to run your hands over his thick thighs – thicker than your torso – and take him in your mouth till he came. His black fingernails snapped the loincloth open and this time you could not hold back your gasp, and he smiled, his amber eyes glinted at your reaction.

He was uncircumcised, but so hard that his foreskin was pulled back. He dripped with white precum over the very, very large purple head, and his cock was an even darker shade of purple than the rest of his skin. His balls were large, and heavy, and he was so, so very hard and long. Arzod’s girth was so big you almost feared for your safety and knew it would take two hands to fit entirely around him. You throbbed at the idea of him stretching you, filling you to the brim.

You looked away from his genatalia to his eyes now. He slowly stepped forward, into the bath and sunk down. It only came up to his waist, as he was so large, and you ungracefully got out of bed. The robe barely covered you, but covered all the parts he wanted to see – your full breasts, your nipples he so wanted to pinch and squeeze and suck because they were _his –_ elves did so love breasts,  and elven women did not often have much. Human women, however, did.

They definitely did.

He outright licked his lips as you knelt next to him. Before he could grab your face and kiss you, you took the sponge and started to slowly run it over his strong, warrior body. The scent of the rose infiltrated your nostrils, and he was breathing hard. He could smell you. He could smell your scent, and he wanted nothing more than to make your scent his own – make every elf within the village smell that you were his, that you belonged to him. He wanted your scent on him to boast of you, to take you everywhere he went.

Your hand dipped below the water, slowly washing his thighs, between his legs… but never quite there. His cock outright twitched in the water. You wanted it in you so badly, damned the consequences, and continued to tease him.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He abruptly stood, making you gasp at how powerful and pensive he looked in the moonlight, dripping in water, making his skin look well oiled. You looked so innocent, so ready to be tainted by him, your big eyes marveling up at his figure. He grabbed your arms, hoisting you up, up to the point your feet were off the ground and kissed you.

You groaned. Finally. His kiss sent electrifying currents through your body, making you feel alive, as he bit and teased and pressed his mouth aggressively against yours. His tongue pushed his way through your lips when you gasped, claiming the inside of your mouth. Arzod was grabbing your waist so tightly that you knew he was going to leave bruises, but you didn’t care.

You finally had to break the kiss to breathe, but he didn’t stop. He kissed your neck, breathing in your scent, your hair, biting, looking, and pressing open mouthed kisses over your collarbone.

“Arzod.” You moaned. “Please.”

Finally, he stopped. He looked at you, possessively, yet gently tucked a curl behind your ear. He said something in his native tongue, and you did not know what it meant, but it made your knees quiver.

“On the bed.” You obeyed. “I make you mine tonight.”

He slowly unwrapped your robe as though you were a precious present, sucking in a breath when he saw your delicious breasts, nostrils flaring when he saw the pink peeking beneath your curls. He breathed deeply, and it was so lewd it made you blush furiously. He smiled, his white teeth underneath dark skin, and his long ears twitched upright. His long hair dropped beside his face, and you ran your fingers through it, through the silky locks, up to his ears, and he groaned. You traced your fingers over his tattoos, noting to one day ask what they all meant.

Arzod shivered, grabbing your hands in one wrist and holding them above your head. “This is about you, my love.” He whispered in his accented, thick voice. You noticed his common tongue always became thick when he was distracted. “Tonight I worship you until the sun comes up.”

Before you could think about how you might not be able to survive that, he leaned down and kissed you again, more gently this time, and ran his hand over your breasts. He broke away, marveling at how soft they felt, how right they felt, how they fit perfectly in his large hands. The elf ran his hand over his human woman’s nipple, making them even perkier, and finally could not resist. He leaned down to taste one in his mouth, sucking hard, and it made you moan so loud the inn must have heard. It sent heat straight between your legs and you could feel your slick coating your thighs. Had you ever been this wet before?

He switched to the other nipple, swirling his tongue around it. Oh, this was going to be one of his favorite pastimes. How he loved the feel of them in his mouth, he chuckled when he thought how jealous he would be when he one day would watch his child suckle from them. He finally broke away, still marveling at them, and could not resist kissing you again.

His warm lips felt so, so very good. You could kiss them all day. You broke away this time, tangling your hands in his white hair, tugging. He moaned, and you kissed his neck, biting as he did a few moments ago. He rutted against you and you felt his thickness against your thigh, warm, pulsing, ready to go where it belonged.

Arzod quickly broke away and kissed down your stomach, and instead of going where you desired him to, he instead kissed your inner thighs, biting and kneading the flesh there. He inhaled your scent. Finally, he opened his eyes, and your throat caught at the intensity of his golden irises. He looked down to your opening – so beautiful, so glistening, so pink and soft – ready to open for him. He nearly drooled at the sight. He grabbed the flesh of your ass, bringing you closer as you tried to close your legs out of self-consciousness.

“Do not close them. I want to see you.”

“Please…” You groaned. He licked his lips and looked up at you, kissing your right inner thigh one more time before descending upon your opening.

You nearly screamed at the contact of his hot tongue making figure 8’s on your pussy. He ate you out like you were the last meal he would ever have, and was perfectly fine with that. His hand squeezed your legs apart tightly, opening you up for him more, and your body flushed as your back arched off the bed, grabbing his hair and pressing him closer, which he happily complied.

He nosed your clit, wanting his tongue to taste you as deep as it could possibly go, lapping up all your wetness, taking everything you could give him. He opened his eyes, pausing, and you whimpered. “Look at me.”

You did, and you felt another wave of wetness slick over your thighs. He smiled. “You taste so delicious.” To prove his point, he gave another long lick with the flat of his tongue from the bottom of your entrance to your clit. He inhaled your scent again. “And all mine.”

Now, Arzod took his hand and slowly fingered your clit, causing you to bite back a groan. You felt a sharp slap on your behind and gasped. “None of that. Let me hear your sweet sounds. Let the world now who you belong to, who makes you feel this way.”

You moaned again when he entered a so very thick, long finger into your entrance. His finger, honestly, was longer than any other man’s cock you had and you found yourself squeezing around it, wanting his instead. He entered another, captivatingly watching you as you took him in, squeezing around him as he disappeared into you. You were a sight – brows furrowed, lips moist with his kiss, covered in his marks. He would have you like this, he decided, every moment he could get.

He shoved another finger in, 3, and you begin to feel pain. His stretch was more than you ever had, but you knew that he was doing this so you could better accommodate him. Arzod hit that spot inside you that made you see stars, and you were frantically screaming, whispering, whimpering, and groaning his name like a prayer.

Arzod decided not to play with you this time. He would let you come so you would easily take him in, but he knew there would be more time to play. He drove his fingers in with fury, watching now as you came undone, and thought it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. He pressed his hand against your lower stomach as you grinded against his fingers until your breath hitched – you stopped, mouth open in an “o”, and came all over his hand.

He smiled devilishly and sucked every last drop off of his fingers, closing his eyes, relishing the taste. You were shaking, and your eyes opened to his hungry gaze looking down upon you. He grabbed your thighs, and your opening quivered, wanting him.

Arzod hooking your knees over his elbows so he would drive him deep, and looked at you, slowly, more calmly. “Are you ready, my love? Are you ready to take me in?” He grinned at you as you nodded enthusiastically. “Don’t be so impatient, you will take my cock every night, every morning, every moment we have free for the rest of your life.”

You moaned at the thought, and his warm cock pressed against your tiny entrance. It would almost be comical, how large he was, but the second his large tip slid into you, you moaned lewdly. He had to stop himself from driving into you entirely, taking you without remorse and bringing you both to oblivion. But he slowly, slowly pushed forward until he was halfway in and you first let out a sound of slight pain. He shushed you, squeezing your leg gently until you urged him on, and finally, without warning, he slid home. He whispered something in elvish so fervently, so many endearing and awestruck words.

You gasped into him, never having felt so full. You could feel his tip press into your womb, felt every throb and every vein of him, never have you felt so stretched. You shook, causing your pussy to tighten around him and he groaned. He wanted to cherish this, and did not move till he fully drank in your sight, memorized the look of his cock so deeply nestled within you where you connected.

“Arzod…” you moaned, moving your hands to his ears, tugging, “Please move, please fuck me.”

“Anything for you, my love.” He whispered. He pulled out slowly, nearly all the way, and you nearly cried at the emptiness and then he quickly snapped his hips back in, causing you to cry out in bliss. He could only go slowly for so long before his animalistic side took over. Elves were primal, possessive lovers, and he quickly started to rut into you, hitting you so deeply that your pussy made obscene wet noises every time he entered again. He moved your legs over his shoulders and bent down to your face, folding you in half, and with this angle you felt as though he were everywhere and you gave a wanton scream. His amber eyes flicked up at you. “Do you like this?” He knew you did. You could only barely nod as he continued his assault. “Who do you belong to?” You quietly moaned between his thrusts, “You.”

He spanked your ass, now exposed at the new angle. “Who do you belong to?” Arzod asked again. You screamed, arching your back as much as his closeness would allow off the bed, grabbing his back and scraping your nails up his strong body, leaving lighter purple mars on his muscular frame. “You! Arzod!” He kissed you so hard, as deeply as you felt your legs shake and you came, hard, your vision going white.

Arzod did not relent, and continued to fuck you deeply, and you were almost scared he would break you. You tugged his face down to kiss you again, this time shoving your tongue inside his mouth, and he moaned, coming inside of you. You didn’t care, you wanted all of him, all of his seed inside. “Yes, come inside me!” You panted. His amber eyes widened in awe, and he smiled, biting your neck to the point of drawing small pinpricks of blood as he filled you up and pressed into you to make sure you took every drop of him, of his seed.

You shuddered at the feeling of being so full. His cum was warm and gushed around where you met, and it was to your surprise that elves came a lot more than their human male counterparts. A lot more.

He sighed in the afterglow, leaning on you and hold you in his arms after he let your legs down. He inhaled you and grinned. You smelled of him now.

He could feel you lulling off to sleep, gently combing through his hair, and you brought his face up to kiss your lovely lips again. You smiled against him but began to whimper as he slowly pulled out, feeling some of his seed exit.

“Shhhh,” He whispered. Arzod dipped the sponge you used to bathe him with in the now lukewarm bathwater. You sighed, tired, after-glowing as he gently cleaned your thighs, kissing your navel, though he loved the idea of his seed dripping down you for hours to come.

He gently got behind you in the bed, holding you possessively in his grip and kissed your forehead. He ran a hand down your waist, pulling the covers over both of you and you relaxed into his grip, lulling off into a peaceful sleep.

Arzod looked down upon his dragon born, feeling a tug in his heart. He wished she would understand, truly, that she was his mate. That she truly did belong to him. Humans were slow, but true, in their love, but awkward creatures. It would take time for her to love him as he did her. He snorted at the irony – short lives, long time to love, versus elves; long lives, short time to love. Maybe it was due to experience that elves recognized when to never let go of someone when they found them. He watched her till her breathing evened, with a gentle smile upon her beautiful face.

“I will keep you safe like this every night, my love.” He whispered. His ears drooped in slow, satisfied and relaxed tiredness and Arzod slept peacefully for the first time in nearly 50 years with his dragon born in his arms.

 


End file.
